


Wizards, Werewolves and Hunters, Oh My!

by DancingLassie



Series: It's a Magical Life [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingLassie/pseuds/DancingLassie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's life is complicated. It turns out he's a wizard and Dad has insisted that if he has to have a magic son then at the very least his magic son is going to the best damn magic school there is... that speaks English. So now he's got to survive magic school, homesickness and the murdering psychopath after one of his friends - that weird dark haired kid with the scar and the glasses in the year below him (you might of heard of him). Not only that but there is still Sammy and the Family Business to contend with.</p><p>Surely magic will make things easier?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Philosopher's Stone

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an idea that crawled into my brain and wouldn't leave. Basically what would happen if Dean went to Hogwarts with the Golden Trio. 
> 
> This will probably mostly be told from the point of view of the Harry Potter characters, mainly because I'm British and it's easier to write that way. If anything Dean says sounds completely off please let me know.
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry had known of Dean Winchester long before he actually met him.  After all, the boy was probably the only American student in Hogwarts, and definitely the only one in Gryffindor.  However, whatever notoriety he may have had from that privilege was eclipsed by Harry's own sorting into the Lion's House.  Though looking back many years later, Harry strongly suspected that Dean had been relieved to have the burden of everyone else's interest taken away from him.

Before he met him, all Harry knew about Dean was that he was American, in the year above Harry and his friends, and was a bit of a loner.  His closest friend, to Harry's great surprise, was Neville Longbottom.  It may have something to do with being on the fringe of their own year groups peers, but Harry had seen the two boys sitting together often in the common room doing homework together.

It wasn't until after the horrendous incident with Norbert that Harry actually talked to Dean Winchester, though talked may have been the wrong word.  It was the day after losing all those points for Gryffindor and Harry had been walking on his own towards the library to meet Hermione when he spotted Dean ambling towards him.  The moment the older boy had spotted him his stride turned purposeful and before Harry could even think about what this could mean for him he found himself grabbed by the collar of his robe and thrown into an empty classroom.

"Hey," Harry began nervously, wondering if he was about to experience a repeat of his primary school years when his cousin and his gang would often beat him up in empty corridors and classrooms.  Dean, while obviously nowhere near the bulk of his fat cousin, was nevertheless tall and rather well built for a thirteen year old.  Harry had no delusions about his chances in a fight, even with magic.

"I don't care about the points," Dean began carefully, and Harry had to wonder if he had taken lessons from Snape in intimidation.  The older boy had placed himself in front of the door and his body was angled in a way that made the muscles in his arms visible through his thin school shirt.  "I'll even admit that I enjoyed seeing that dick Dragon Milfoy-"

"Draco Malfoy," Harry quickly corrected him.

"Whatever," Dean brushed the correction aside.  "Him.  I enjoyed seeing him taken down a peg or two.  But what I _have_ got a problem with is how you've treated Neville."

"We didn't know he was going to be out that night!"  Harry was quick to leap to his own defence.  Dean had taken a few steps towards him after the last pronouncement and he looked bigger and more threatening than ever. 

"I don't give a fuck what you thought," Dean growled, ignoring Harry's startled blink at the language.  "All year you've been playing with him.  Half the time he can't figure out if you're his friend or not.  You and your group pay attention to him, are nice to him, help him out occasionally  and then just forget his existence. 

"You guys were the ones to say he needed to stand up to Malfoy and when he did at your last quidditch match, God I was proud of him!"  Harry could see he was.  Dean's eyes had lit up briefly with a fierce pride before turning menacing again.

"But then none of you even bothered to visit him in the hospital wing after."

It took Harry a few seconds to realise what Dean was talking about.  He'd forgotten that Neville had been knocked out by Crabbe and Goyle during the Hufflepuff quidditch match.  He'd been so worried about finding Snape threatening Quirrell that he had completely forgotten about Neville in the hospital wing. 

"I'm sorry," Harry stammered out sincerely. 

"I'm not the one you should be saying it too," Dean ground out.  He was now right up in Harry's face.  "Here's what's going to happen.  You and your pals are going to apologise to Neville, and then you're going to stay away from him, because the last thing you want is for me to hear that he's been caught in the crossfire of another of your stupid ass adventures.  Capiche?

"Capi... I mean yes."

"Good."

Harry was then left alone in the empty classroom trying to steady his fast beating heart.

*     *     *

He did apologise to Neville, as did Ron and Hermione.  Neville had just looked at them in shock before mumbling something unintelligible and running away.  However, while he kept his promise to Dean and stayed away from Neville, his guilt prompted him to keep an eye on him.

What worried him was that he was not the only one keeping away from Neville.  While all of Gryffindor tower was keeping their distance, Harry had not expected Dean to be one of them.  Not after their confrontation, so when he spotted Dean alone in the library after double potions he let his frustration at Snape propel him forward.

"Why are you ignoring Neville?" he demanded a little too loudly.  Madam Pince glared at him from two rows away. 

Dean looked up from his transfiguration book, annoyance and anger etched into his face.  "Fuck off," he growled.  Harry heard Ron's sharp intake of breath and Hermione's startled gasp at Dean's language. 

"No," Harry insisted stubbornly.  He grabbed the seat opposite Dean and sat down angrily.  "You threatened me for being a bad friend to Neville and now you're ignoring him."

"I'm not ignoring him," Dean ground out through clenched teeth.  "He's ignoring me.  Now go the fuck away."

Harry blinked in astonishment. "Why's he ignoring you?" he asked curiously as Hermione and Ron took seats next to him cautiously. 

Dean looked seriously aggravated as his hand clenched tightly atop his transfiguration homework, smearing the ink.  "According to his Gran I'm a bad influence and he's to keep away, so that's what he's doing.  Now go away before your relatives do the same."  He looked angrily back down at his transfiguration homework and swore again when he saw the mess he had made.

"Why would you be a bad influence?" Hermione asked him timidly. 

"Well, I doubt she put it quite this way but it was probably something along the lines of me being a no-good American hick, with bad manners, a foul mouth and no brain."

"That can't be true!" Hermione insisted, though Harry quietly thought that Neville's grandmother wasn't too far off the mark with the bad manners and foul-mouth part.  However, with Hermione being Hermione she had obviously only focused on the last remark. 

"You're the only Gryffindor since Snape started teaching to get full marks in a potions exam!"

"What!" Ron practically yelled , ducking his head in embarrassment as Madam Pince 'ssshed' him loudly.  "How in Merlin's name did you manage that?  You'd have to be a genius or something."

Dean snorted loudly.  "Nah, Snape and I just have a little understanding.  He doesn't fuck with me, and I don't sass him.  It works."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue with him but Ron beat her to it.  "You are my new hero, mate!"

Dean blinked at Ron in astonishment and the briefest flicker of a smile crept onto his face, until he glanced down at the mess that had been his homework and then the scowl was back.

Hermione followed his line of sight and gasped in sympathy.  "Oh no! I'm so sorry we distracted you!  Here let me help."  And before Dean could even begin to protest Hermione had moved around the table and proceeded to help him fix his mangled attempt at homework.

After that bizarre study session in the library Harry liked to think Dean became a friend.  He was certainly the only Gryffindor outside of Ron and Hermione to talk to him.  He had also started eating meals with them.  Neville had inserted himself into Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan's group and deliberately avoided looking over at any of them.

Dean also occasionally joined them in the library and he seemed to especially enjoy winding up Hermione.  He would whine and complain almost as much as Ron, would deliberately play at being thick and go off on long tangents about things that had absolutely nothing to do with homework.  Then, when Hermione looked two seconds away from exploding and getting them all chucked out the library, he would suddenly turn serious and start rattling off the right answers.  Hermione would quietly fume for the next half hour and Dean would chuckle while good naturedly ruffling her bushy hair.

Harry quickly realised that Dean was far from stupid.  He was probably a genius with Potions, no slouch in Herbology and Harry found his lectures on Defence Against the Dark Arts far more interesting and useful than Quirrell's attempts at teaching.  However, if Dean couldn't see a practical use in something he quickly stopped trying which was why he was currently failing both charms and transfiguration. 

"But they're just teaching us the basics!" Hermione pleaded as Dean argued that there was no possible way he was ever going to need to know how to change an orange blue.  "They need us to learn the basics before they can teach us the more complicated spells."

"Well they should teach us basic useful spells then!" Dean argued.  "Like the flying one we learnt in first year, that one was useful.  I used it to keep things out of Sammy's reach whenever he got too annoying."

Sammy, Harry knew, was Dean's younger brother and Dean adored him.  He received at least two long letters a week from his brother which he dutifully replied to before even contemplating homework.  He also liked to constantly warn Hermione to watch out because the moment Sammy got to Hogwarts her title of 'Genius' was going to be in jeopardy.   

Hermione currently looked scandalised.  "We're not allowed to use magic outside school! We're underage.  It's illegal."

"Only if you get caught," Dean rolled his eyes.  "And I only do it when we're staying in an area with a lot of magical activity, that way they can't tell it's me."

He promptly blocked out Hermione's lecture with an ease that spoke of much practice and started explaining to Harry how different grips on his wand were important for different defensive spells.  Hermione sat huffily next to them for a moment before realising that she actually wanted to know this and started firing off questions.

*     *     *

Ron and Dean had waited up for the others while they completed their detention.  Dean had threatened to tie Ron to the chair when he wouldn't stop pacing and ended up distracting him by trying (and failing) to explain the plot of Star Wars to him.

By the time Harry, Hermione and Neville got back Ron had just about grasped the concept of the force and declared magic better.

All humour quickly left the room at the sight of the white-faced, trembling figures.  Neville practically flew from the room, ignoring Dean's attempt to talk to him and that left Harry and Hermione to explain everything.  To say Dean was unimpressed was an understatement.

"So, there's a three headed dog guarding a magic stone that can grant eternal life hiding in the castle.  You think Voldemort - don't you dare say anything about the name Ron - is after it and is using Snape to get it.  That's complete bullshit!"

"Dean, we've seen the three headed dog, Hagrid told us about Nicholas Flemmel and-"

"No not that part," Dean cut Harry off.  "The Snape part."

Harry stared.

"Look," Dean turned in front of the fire to face them, feet apart and arms folded behind his back.  He looked very much like an army drill sergeant.  "There's no denying Snape is an A-grade bastard.  But I doubt he's trying to kill you.  I mean he hates your guts, but in a way that you have to be alive to hate.  He's not giving out the psychopathic evil minion vibes.  I don't think it's Snape man."

"Your mental," Ron told him bluntly.  "If it's not Snape then who is it?"

"I don't know, but it's not Snape.  I'm not feeling it."

"We're supposed to believe it's not Snape based on your feeling?" Ron sneered.  "Well Harry feels it is and he's got a _bit_ more experience combating the dark arts than you, so as far as I'm concerned I trust Harry's gut feelings more than yours."

Dean glared at them all.  Ron glared right back, Hermione tried to fade into her armchair and Harry just shrugged uncomfortably.

"It's Snape," he told Dean.

"Fine," Dean snarled.  "I'll take my gut feelings and my lack of dark arts experience elsewhere.  I mean, what do I know?"  He stormed off towards his dormitory, leaving the other three to discuss the detention in more detail without him.

*     *     *

There wasn't much of a chance to make up with Dean in the next few weeks.  Exams were upon them and Harry felt only vaguely guilty for ignoring Dean, too busy memorising various goblin rebellions.

He felt bad later on for not even considering getting Dean involved when going after the Philosopher's Stone, but at the time panic and worry had completely wiped the older boy from his mind. 

It wasn't until Dean came to visit him in the hospital wing that Harry remembered both their last argument and their first confrontation and he was suddenly very grateful to already be in a hospital bed. 

Dean sat down next to his bed and simply stared at him from a long time, giving Harry no choice but to stare back and wander who Dean had learnt the judgemental stare from.

"You were right, it wasn't Snape," Harry muttered eventually, unable to stand the silence any longer. 

"Damn right I was right," Dean continued to stare.

"And I'm sorry Neville got caught in the crossfire."

"And..." Dean prompted not letting the staring cease. 

Harry wracked his brain for something else to confess too.  "I'm sorry for not getting a teacher?" he tried.

"Jesus Christ Harry!" Dean exploded.  "Forget about getting a teacher.  They were hardly likely to take you seriously.  You should have gotten _me_!"

Dean stood up abruptly, running his hand agitatedly through his hair he began to pace up and down besides Harry's bed.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you lot were.  You went into an unknown situation with very little idea of what you might face, armed with nothing but your wands and whatever knowledge was rattling around in those little first year brains of yours to face a possessed bastard who wants you dead!

"And to top it all off, you went and faced the freak alone.  How long did it take for you to find yourself wandless and at Voldemort's mercy?  For God's sake, why do all wizards dismiss the idea of a backup plan!"

He slammed something down next to Harry's hand and Harry gaped at the knife now lying on his bed.

"Dean-" he started.

"Shut up!" Dean snapped , pointing at him accusingly.  "Do you have any idea how stupid wizards are?  They automatically assume that once wandless you're defenceless.  Well that's they're bloody mistake, now keep it and if necessary use it."

"Why do you even have a knife," Harry asked, still not touching it. 

"My dad's an ex-marine ok."  Dean began to look a bit uncomfortable.  "I've grown up around weapons.

"Look," Dean sat back down on the chair, looking like he wished to be anywhere else.  "Last year we got taught duelling basics by Professor Dolt.  He was the professor before Quirrell.  Anyway, he didn't really like muggleborns, and I think I offended him even more with my accent, so he decided to make an example of me.  Got me up to be his punching bag and threw spell after spell at me.  Anyway, he disarmed me, kept throwing spells at me so I tackled and disarmed him and broke his nose.  He got fired, I got a month of detentions.

"Point I'm trying to make is... well... wizards underestimate muggle defences but they can work just as well.  So... just keep the knife, I'll show you how to hide it, and if Voldemort ever gets close to you again at least stabbing him is an option."

Harry didn't really know what to say, so he took the knife. 

"Good," Dean looked relieved as he stood up.  "Look, I'm glad you're alright man," he told Harry awkwardly as he moved towards the door of the hospital wing.

"Thanks," Harry told him.  "And sorry, you know, for not including you.  We should have told you we were going after the stone."

"Whatever," Dean scoffed.  "Let's not turn this into a chick flick moment."

*     *     *

The summer holidays came along much sooner than Harry would have liked.  He was relieved to find that he and Ron had passed all his exams, while Hermione was still annoyed at the one mark Snape had taken off her in the potions exam.

"He said it was because I added too much fluxweed," she grumbled to the train compartment.  Ron and Harry were sitting opposite her while she complained to Dean who was sitting in between her and Neville.  After the end of year feast, with Neville winning those crucial points in their favour, the shy boy had hesitantly started talking to Dean again. 

According to Hermione who had witnessed it all, Neville had tried to apologise only to be told 'not to sweat it' which had left Neville confused and Hermione explaining what the term meant.

"Well, it can affect the consistency of the potion," Dean shrugged.  No one was asking how he'd managed it, but he had once again aced Snape's exam, come third in Herbology and joint first in Defence Against the Dark Arts, which made up for barely passing Transfiguration or Charms.

"But not the potency," Hermione argued back.

"Well yeah, but imagine the poor sucker who has to drink it.  I mean, it's foul tasting enough as it is without him needing to chug sludge down.  Consistency's important.  I mean Sammy doesn't like bananas because of their texture but he doesn't care if they're blended in a milkshake."

Ron and Harry watched in amusement as Hermione lost her argument and the talk turned to the summer holidays.  Ron was just hanging out at home with his brothers, Hermione was going on holiday with her parents and poor Neville was getting tutored privately in all the areas his grandmother felt he hadn't done well enough in. 

Dean grimaced as he slapped his friend sympathetically on the back. 

"What about you two?" Hermione asked Harry and Dean.  Harry grimaced.

"Avoiding the Dursleys mostly," he shrugged, ignoring the questioning look Dean sent him.  "You?" he asked the other boy.

"Eh," Dean raised one shoulder.  "I'll look after Sammy and help Dad with the family business."

"What does your dad do?" Hermione asked.

"Mechanic," Dean looked out the window at the passing scenery.  "We got a sweet car.  1967 Chevy Impala.  She's a beauty."  No one apart from Dean had any idea what kind of car that was.

"Well, don't ever tell my dad that," Ron snorted.  "He'll have your dad round for tea and never let him leave.  We've got an old car in the shed at home that Dad's been trying to fix up."

Dean let out a short laugh.  "I'll warn him."

Far too soon the train pulled up at the station and they all clambered off.  Neville was spotted by his grandmother almost immediately and hauled away as she shot Dean a dirty look, Dean just smiled charmingly back.

Instead of heading with the other three towards the barrier that would let them out onto the muggle station Dean waved at an official looking wizard standing on the edge of the crowd.  The wizard stiffly and reluctantly waved back.

"That's the guy who sorts out my ride back to the States," he explained.  "See you guys next year."

And with that he made his way over to the wizard, who grabbed his shoulder and then they were gone.


	2. Chamber of Secrets, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm obviously not writing out the whole of all the Harry Potter books, so this story is told in snippets that assume people already know the plot of Harry Potter. Also, some of the dialogue is taken directly from the books. I should probably also mention that I don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural.

"Dean!" Hermione yelled over the hustle and bustle of the station platform.  Her parents had dropped her off on the muggle side of the platform an hour early and she had been able to grab a compartment for herself and her friends.  Neither the Weasleys or Harry had appeared yet, but Neville had joined her ten minutes ago looking relieved to be let out the sight of his formidable grandmother.

The American boy had just appeared in a secluded corner of the station with his battered trunk.  He quickly spotted Hermione and Neville and waved as he easily made his way through the crowd to join them.

"What's up?" he greeted the two of them as he entered the compartment.  In response he was met with an armful of bushy haired girl.  "Missed me did you?"

"Of shut up!" Hermione snapped as she released him.  "You didn't give any of us an address to write to!  And you didn't bother to check in with us all summer."

Dean shrugged carelessly.  "Dad's work means we move around a lot.  Makes it hard to give people an address to write to.  What'd I miss?" he asked as he clapped Neville on the shoulder and sat down next to him.

"Harry got trapped in his room by his aunt and uncle and Ron rescued him in a flying car," Neville said, who had just heard the entire story from Hermione. 

For the first time since Hermione had known him, Dean was struck speechless.  He opened his mouth a few times before finally getting out a strangled, "Flying car!"

"An old Ford Anglia," Hermione filled him in.

"OK, first off, that's not a car.  That's a pile of scrap metal masquerading as a car.  Secondly, while you have no idea how disturbing I find the idea of a flying car, I think the most important issue is Harry being trapped in his room." 

Dean's entire body was tense with anger.  "What's the deal with the aunt and uncle?"

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip nervously.  Harry would hate that they were discussing this behind his back, but what his aunt and uncle did wasn't right!  Ron and his family seemed to understand that but were reluctant to talk about it, and Neville had just shrugged uncomfortably when she had tried to explain social services and child protection laws to him.  But Dean!  He was from a muggle raised family.  He would get it.

"They don't seem to like him much,  Harry doesn't really talk about it, but I don't think they like magic at all.  And I don't think they feed him much, Ron wrote to tell me that they were feeding him cans of soup through a cat flap in his room, and he's far too skinny, and he doesn't go home for Christmas and I tried talking to Mum and Dad and they phoned Social Services but nothing came of it and I don't know what to do!"

She let it all out very fast, her worry and aggravation spilling out of her in the form of hot salty tears and before she knew it she had stomped across to the older boy and buried her head in his shoulder, arms clasped tightly around his middle.

A hesitant hand patted her on the head before she was untangled and passed onto an equally uncomfortable looking Neville who made her sit down and awkwardly offered her a handkerchief.  She blew her nose noisily and dried her eyes as she watched Dean prowl around the small space.

"Well, fuck!" he eventually broke the silence.  He snorted humourlessly and threw himself down opposite Hermione and Neville.  "Trust Social Services huh?  They spend years trying to get hold of Dad, Sammy and me when the ones across the pond can't even help a kid who actually needs it."

Hermione felt her heart sink with that statement.  Surely Dean wasn't in the same boat as Harry?  She ran a critical eye over his form.  He was a bit skinnier than the last time she saw him, but that could have just been down to his growth spurt.  He certainly didn't look like he came from an abusive environment. 

"Is now a good time to mention the deranged house elf who thinks Harry's going to die if he comes back to Hogwarts?" Neville piped in an effort to break the tension that was slowly stifling the life from the room.

"The what?" Dean blinked in bewilderment.  And so Neville and Hermione did their very best to catch Dean up with all that they knew of Harry's summer.  It took them awhile, and by the time they'd finished the train had just started leaving the station.

"I hope Harry and the Weasleys got here ok," Hermione frowned at the compartment door, looking out of it in search of Ron and Harry.  However, when the compartment door opened it wasn't the two boys they were looking for that entered.  Instead it was two identical red heads who looked uncharacteristically grim.

"Harry and Ron missed the train," Fred told Hermione who clasped her hands to her mouth in horror. 

"Oh no!  What are they going to do?  They'll miss school!  This is awful!"

"No it's not," Dean assured her.  "They'll send them along by floo powder or something.  They're not going to let the Boy-Who-Lived get off school that easily, it would set a bad example."

"Heh!  You're right!" George laughed, a look of relief flitting across his face.  "They'll just have to survive one of Mum's lectures first."

"Don't know why we were so worried!" Fred shook his head.  "Suppose we better go tell Ginny the good news that her future husband is going to make it to school after all.  Thanks mate," he said to Dean and then they left.

"Wizards," Dean shook his head.  "They have no common sense.  Harry and Ron will be waiting for us at Hogwarts, you'll see."

Later, as the gossip spread around the Gryffindor table of a flying car crashing into the Whomping Willow, Dean had the decency to at least look a little abashed under Hermione's glare.

*     *     *

Words could not describe how much Harry currently envied Dean Winchester.  His first day back at Hogwarts had been awful.  A Howler, a stalker and a lesson with Lockhart had put Harry in a foul mood by dinner time and there Dean was sitting at the table laughing with Neville as Harry moodily sat down next to him.  The American boy wasn't even in school uniform, but instead looked unfairly comfortable in jeans with holes in the knees and a baggy t-shirt with _Led Zeppelin_ displayed across the front.

"Bad day?" Dean raised an amused eyebrow at him.  "Neville was just telling me about Colin Creevey.  Don't suppose I could get one of those signed photos to send to Sammy, only he refuses to believe that I'm friends with a celebrity."

"Shut up!" Harry muttered.  Lockhart was passing the Gryffindor table and the last think Harry needed was for him to hear Dean's comments. 

"Why aren't you in uniform?" Hermione scolded as she and Ron joined the table. 

"Eh," Dean shovelled a large forkful of shepherd's pie into his mouth.  "I got the day off to recover from jet lag.  So how were classes?"

Harry definitely envied Dean Winchester.

"Awful," Ron complained.  "We had to work with screaming mandrakes, my wand wouldn't work in Transfiguration and then we had _Lockhart_ ," the last name was spat out coated in pure venom.

"I thought his lesson was very educational," Hermione injected shrilly.

"Educational?" Ron looked gobsmacked.  "Hermione, he let a bunch of pixies destroy the classroom and hang Neville up on the ceiling."

Dean's head swung towards Neville, eyes roving over his form, checking for any injury.  Neville just shrugged morosely.  "I'm fine," he reassured Dean.  "Harry and Ron got me down."

Dean rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled timetable.  "I was supposed to have him this morning, but now I don't have him till Friday."

"Lucky you," Harry said acidly.

When Friday dinner arrived Harry was pleased to note the slightly feral look invading Dean's eyes.

"That...That..." he seemed inarticulate with rage.  "That complete fraud!"

"He's not a fraud," Hermione defended fiercely, clutching _Wandering with Werewolves_ tight to her chest.

"Oh please!" Dean snorted derisively,  "If he's done even half the things he's said he's done then I'll eat Dad's shotgun.  No one battles vampires and werewolves and comes out with hair that shiny."

Ron snorted in agreement. 

"Thank God I didn't buy his books," Dean continued as he grabbed the bowl of potatoes Ron offered him.

"You didn't buy his books?" Hermione looked like she might faint.  "But they were on the school list."

"Then they shouldn't have been so fucking expensive.  Dad almost shit a brick when I told him I needed new robes as well as books.  Then Sammy decided my cauldron was a good place to conduct a chemistry experiment - non-explosive materials my ass - so I also needed a new cauldron.  There weren't any Lockhart books in the second hand shop so I couldn't afford them."

Hermione was looking like she couldn't decide whether to be sympathetic or disapproving, but it was Ron's expression that caught Harry by surprise.  He was looking at Dean as though he'd never seen him before.

"You get your stuff second hand?"

"Yeah," Dean shrugged as if it was no big deal.  "Not the robes, they don't ever seem to be any in my size, but everything else yeah.  No way we can afford everything new on Dad's income, and I'm the first wizard in the family so I can't exactly get hand-me-downs.  Not so bad though, you won't believe what some people throw away."

"I know!" Ron grinned.  "I once found a signed Chudley Cannons book, almost perfect condition."  The talk at the table quickly turned into a friendly competition about who had found the best buys in dusty corners of local charity shops and Harry fought down the twinge of guilt as he thought about the pile of gold he had sitting somewhere under London.

Somehow the talk turned back to books, with Dean regaling them all with the story of his brother trying to sneak ten books he _had_ to have in with Dean's schoolbooks on his first trip to Diagon Alley.

"I did a bit of work for one of Dad's friends over the summer so I'm going to get him a magic book for Christmas," Dean grinned, sentimentally patting the amulet Harry had never seen him without.  "Last Christmas was a bit crappy so I'll make it up to him this year."

"You could get him one of Professor Lockhart's books and then you could actually complete some of the required reading," Hermione told him acidly.

"Nah, I'll get him a book about a real magic hero."

"He _is_ a real hero," Hermione protested.  "He goes all around the world hunting monsters and saving people!"

Dean shook his head in disgust.  "You have _no_ idea how much that statement offends me."

*     *     *

Ron was worried.  He was worried about a lot of things.  What his mum was going to say to him next time she saw him.  How he was going to survive the whole year with a broken wand.  How he was going to get the money over the holidays to pay for a new one.  However, currently at the top of the list was Harry hearing a voice no one else could hear.

It was the morning after their respective detentions and Ron had not slept well, despite his hours of gruelling manual labour.  Harry had reluctantly agreed to tell Hermione, Dean and Neville about the voice.  Hermione was trying to be optimistic, assuring Harry that there were probably hundreds of harmless reasons why Harry could hear the voice.  Neville looked grim, but was nodding along with Hermione once she elbowed him in the ribs. 

Dean looked just as worried as Ron felt.  Outwardly he looked relaxed, but Ron spotted the tension surrounding his eyes.  He was just as sceptical as Ron and they shared a meaningful look over the marmalade. 

The tense atmosphere was broken by a cry of disgust coming from the Slytherin table.  Malfoy was spitting out his food in horror, grabbing a cup of pumpkin juice only to spit it back into the cup choking slightly. 

Ron had no idea what was going on, but he laughed heartily as Malfoy bit into a pastry only to cough it back out and look at the food around him in dismay. 

He turned back to the others grinning, just in time to catch the fleeting look of smug satisfaction that flitted across Dean's face.

"You didn't," he gasped.

"Didn't what?" Dean asked innocently.

"Put something in Malfoy's food."

"Oh Dean no!" Hermione looked at her friend in horror.  "If you get caught you'll get into trouble!"

"Relax Hermione," Dean patted the girl's hand gently.  "I didn't put anything in Malfoy's food."  Ron tried not to let his disappointment show.  "I bribed Zabini to do it."

Ron's elation was back.

"What?" Harry asked amazed.  "You got Blaise Zabini to put something in Malfoy's food?"

"You act like it was difficult," Dean grinned.  "I just had to point out that if Malfoy was taken down a peg or two then it left the position of top dog open for a bit.  He quickly saw the benefits of putting the potion in Malfoy's pumpkin juice.  Let's see how he feels eating mud for a bit.  It'll take Snape the rest of the day to make the antidote."

"Oh Dean," Hermione sighed, and Ron was surprised to find that it wasn't her usual 'you'll get into trouble' sigh, but a _fond_ one.  "That's sweet, but you didn't have to do that just because he insulted me."

Dean's ears went bright red.  "Well, it wasn't like it was _just_  because of you," he mumbled.  "I'm muggle born too you know."

Ron shook his head in amazement and turned to watch Malfoy try to practically scrape the taste buds off his tongue with a napkin.  Perhaps he should introduce Dean to Fred and George.

Though on second thought, the results of that friendship might accidentally kill him.

*     *     *

Harry was not surprised that Hermione found the idea of going to the Death Day party fascinating.  What did surprise him was Dean's enthusiastic response.  While Neville had politely backed out of going and Ron only agreed with much grumbling, Dean actually arrived in the common room with a muggle notepad and pen.

"What?" he asked self consciously.  "I might never get the chance to talk to so many ghosts again.  I need to be able to tell Dad and Sammy."

Harry didn't know why Dean wanted to talk to all the ghosts but he hadn't expected for the ghosts to make it so difficult for the boy.  The moment they entered Dean split away from them to try and interview a ghost with an axe embedded in his head, but it seemed as if the ghosts were going out of their way to avoid the American boy.

Harry wished it was the same for himself as he, Ron and Hermione were quickly found by Peeves, only to end up upsetting a ghost called Moaning Myrtle. 

Nick flew over to join them as Dean gave up trying to talk to the Grey Lady and made his way back over.  Harry wished he'd thought to bring his winter cloak.  Dean looked far warmer than the rest of them.

"Enjoying yourselves," Nick asked them.

"Oh yes!" Harry, Ron and Hermione were quick to assure him, though they were anything but.

"Hey Nick," Dean tried to slap the ghost on the shoulder and only managed to stop his hand when it was embedded in Nick's chest.  "Don't suppose you could put in a good word for me?  No one wants to chat."

"Oh no!" Nick looked thrilled.  "That's entirely the point.  It makes me look more terrifying if you're here."

Harry wondered what it was about Dean that was supposedly terrifying.  He wasn't exactly different from any other Hogwarts student.  The only noticeable thing was the American drawl, but Harry thought that it was rather more comforting than some of the British accents he'd heard. 

"Right," Dean looked a bit glum.  "No problem, glad to help."

"I'm going to let the orchestra know that it's time for my speech," Nick told them, but the orchestra had already stopped playing as the sound of a hunting horn filled the air.

A series ghosts on horseback burst through the dungeon wall and came to a stop in front of Nick.  The leader of the group had his head firmly tucked under his arm and he placed it back on his neck in a great dramatic gesture. 

"Nick!" he cried.  "How are you?  Head still hanging in there?"

Nick looked unamused and Harry felt if he'd been hit in the neck with a blunt axe almost fifty times then he'd probably not find it very funny either.

"Welcome Patrick," Nick greeted reluctantly.

"Live un's!" Patrick cried as he spotted the four humans who were now huddling into Dean and his winter cloak for warmth.  His head had fallen off again to the delight of all the other ghosts.

"Very amusing," Nick said morosely. 

"Don't mind Nick! Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt!  But I mean to say - look at the fellow -"

At Nick's meaningful glance Harry quickly remembered his purpose for being invited in the first place.  "I think Nick's very - frightening and - er -"

"Ha! Bet he asked you to say that."

"He's scarier than you are," Dean cut in.  "That's why I'm here, to keep an _eye_  on things."  Harry felt Dean's hand move behind him and pull something out of his pocket.  He twisted round to look and saw in Dean's palm was a handful of salt.

Patrick had stopped laughing.  The ghost with an axe through his head had whispered something in his ear and he was looking at Dean in trepidation.

"So, I heard it was time for you speech Sir Nicholas," Dean smiled at Nick who beamed back. 

"So it is!" Nick flew up onto the stage.  "My dear lamented ladies and gentleman," he began and Harry soon blocked the words out and concentrated on shivering.

"Come on," Dean whispered, herding them towards the door.  "Let's get you three out or you'll freeze."  Harry gratefully allowed himself to be led out as Dean sent look a purposeful nod and a thumbs up to Nick.

"I'm starving," Ron complained as they made their way up into the entrance hall.  "Maybe there's still time to grab some pudding."

"I could manage some pie," Dean agreed.

It was just as they were approaching the Great Hall that Harry heard it again. 

" _... rip... tear... kill_ "

He stumbled loudly to a halt, causing Dean and Ron to pause halfway through a debate about whether pie or cake was better.

"Harry, what's the matter?"  Dean darted from behind Harry to face him. "Are y-"  But he instantly stopped talking when Harry held up a hand.  Beside him, Hermione and Ron followed his example. 

Harry continued to listen as the voice hissed around him.  It seemed to be moving further away and he ran after it, the other three following close behind him.

"Harry, what are y-" Hermione tried to question him but shut up the moment Dean grabbed her arm.

" _... I smell blood..._ I SMELL BLOOD!"

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted and Dean immediately sprang into action.

"Lead the way," he demanded as he grabbed Harry's arm and Harry took brief comfort in the solid feeling of Dean's hand gripping his elbow as he ran after the disembodied voice.

"What's going on?" Ron panted as they hurtled up the stairs to the second floor and ran down the corridor. 

"Oh my God!" Hermione shrieks as the round the corner.  Hanging from a lamp bracket, stiff as a board is Mrs Norris, and above her, painted in what looks suspiciously like blood, is a message.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.  ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

*     *     *

"This is the lamest Bat Cave ever," Dean complained as he perched on a sink in Moaning Myrtles bathroom.  Hermione ignored him as she pushed the book containing the recipe for Polyjuice potion at him. 

Dean had been a bit annoyed at them ever since he realised that they'd come up with a plan to question Malfoy without involving him.  They hadn't meant to leave him out.  It's just that the three of them were used to solving this sort of thing on their own.  It wasn't until Hermione had realised how complicated the potion would be that she'd thought to tell him.

After all, Dean was a year above them and brilliant at potions.  He was the perfect person to help them.

"Why would we want a cave of bats?" Ron asked Harry in confusion and Hermione forced herself not to sigh in annoyance as Dean chose to ignore the book and instead help Harry explain Batman to Ron.

"Muggles," Ron shook his head in amazement.  "The things you come up with."

"Are you three going to continue discussing superheroes or are we going to look at the potion before someone else gets attacked?" Hermione asked waspishly and was gratified to see all three of the boys looked slightly sheepish.

"Let's see then," Dean finally picked up the potion book and pursued it with interest.

Hermione waited on tenterhooks for his verdict.  She'd already told Ron and Harry that she thought they could do it, but she really wanted Dean to agree with her.

"It's definitely possible, though some of the ingredients are only going to be found in Snape's private stores.  That's going to be fun breaking into."

"We are _not_ breaking into Snape's private stores!" Ron protested.  "If Harry and me get caught then we'll be expelled for sure."

"Relax," Dean waved a hand.  "Let me deal with that bit, I've dabbled in this sort of thing before." 

Hermione doubted he'd meant to say the last bit, and watched with a growing sense of unease as Dean turned purposefully back to the book.  She's been slightly worried about his home life ever since he'd revealed social services had looked into his home situation before, and his revelation that he bought all his stuff second hand hadn't done anything to put that worry to rest.  Her uneasiness increased exponentially as her brain processed the latest piece of the puzzle.

On the train it had sounded like Dean thought the very idea that he could be part of an abusive or unsuitable home was ridiculous, but Hermione had read about situations where the abused was convinced there was nothing wrong with their situation.  She nibbled her lip in worry as she did her best to shove her uneasy thoughts to the back of her mind.  There wasn't enough information yet to jump to any conclusions.

She kept a close eye on Dean throughout the rest of the week, but he let no more major bombshells drop apart from the fact that he, like herself, was deathly afraid of flying.

Harry had been slightly hurt by Dean's reluctance to attend the Slytherin/Gryffindor  quidditch match, but Hermione felt, as she watched Dean clutch to Neville's arm tightly, that Harry should just be grateful Dean bothered to turn up at all.

"Oh God," Dean moaned as Harry narrowly dodged a bludger.  "I can't watch, he's going to die.  Why on earth do people play this game."

"Because it's brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as he cheered Gryffindor loudly.

"Something's wrong with that bludger," Neville exclaimed before Dean could reply. 

They all looked towards where Neville was pointing.  Sure enough, they watched as Harry swerved away from the black ball, only to have to dive out the way again as it hurtled back towards him. 

Again and again the bludger went for Harry and the four of them in the stands watched with an increasing sense of dread as Harry was forced to take more and more risks or else be thrown from his broom.

"Why aren't they stopping the game?" Dean asked through gritted teeth, practically cutting off all blood throw in Neville's arm.

"I don't know!" Hermione shrieked hysterically, as she hung onto him.

The match lasted far too long and the moment it was over they all jumped to their feet and ran towards the pitch just as Harry crashed into the ground. 

They weren't the first to make it to him.  Professor Lockhart was first and Hermione watched in slight awe as Harry's arm deflated like a used balloon.

"YOU IDIOT!" Dean roared and before Hermione could stop him he whirled Lockhart around and punched him on the nose.

"DEAN!" Hermione yelled.  He had punched a teacher!  He had punched Professor Lockhart! 

"MR WINCHESTER!" Professor McGonagall came striding forward and despite being only slightly taller than the American boy managed to wrench him away from the dazed Defence professor. 

"Punching a teacher!  What were you thinking?"

"That he'd just fucked up my friend's arm, Professor," Dean replied sullenly as he allowed himself to be dragged aside.  Next to Hermione, Ron was sniggering with delight.  Hermione kicked him.

"Language!" Professor McGonagall shook her head reprovingly.  "Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, please take Mr Potter up to the hospital wing.  Mr Winchester, you will come with me.  Now move along all of you."

To Hermione's great surprise when Dean entered the hospital wing twenty minutes later he was smirking. 

"I don't know why you're looking so pleased with yourself," she told him waspishly as Ron helped Harry change behind the screen.  "You could have been expelled for that."

"Like she was going to expel me for doing something she wished she'd done," Dean threw her a cocky smirk.  "Anyway, guess who has detentions with Snape until Christmas?"

"That's not a good thing mate," Ron shouted from behind the screen.

"Sure it is," Dean settled down in the chair next to Hermione, looking inordinately pleased with himself.  "It's the perfect chance to steal the ingredients we need.  We'll have the polyjuice potion ready and be questioning Malfoy before anyone else gets attacked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally Chamber of Secrets was supposed to be one chapter, but it was either split it in two and update sooner or take a lot longer to post the entire thing as one chapter. Should hopefully have the rest up soon.


End file.
